Gourds

Near my father-in-law's garden many years ago.

Wise Looking

 

This picture was taken of me sitting by the top of a waterfall in North Georgia, about 1967, smoking a cigarette. Everybody knew back then when you took a long healthy draw of a cigarette, you could see things deeper and see the meaning of life.

I remember what I was thinking as I inhaled. I was wondering if I peed into the waterfall, would my urine flow into the Savannah River and eventually into the Atlantic Ocean or would it flow into the Chattahoochee and go into the Gulf of Mexico?

Or into a drinking supply and into someone’s coffee?

Questions, questions! And no answers.

Brothers Charles & Paul Foster

Charles and Paul Foster. This is Anna's uncles, her mother Marie's two brothers, the youngest is Charles Jones Foster (1925-2012) and saluting Paul Everett Foster, Jr (1922-1995).

In school Paul worked part time as a projector operator at the Strand Theater in Marietta. He joined the Marines and fought in the Pacific. After the war he reenlisted in the Air Force. After that tour he joined the Marietta Post Office where he retired. He married Barbara Shea, no children.

Charles also worked for the Strand Theater while he was in school. He was in charge of getting the weekly programs printed and delivered. During WWII he enlisted in the Army, went to Pilots school and flew supplies in Europe during the war. Afterwards, he continued being a pilot for TWA until he retired. He married Florence Rogers and they moved to Kansas City. After he retired they moved back to Marietta. After Florence died he married Jane Johnson.

Charles an Florence had three daughters.

NATIONAL CEMETERY, MARIETTA, GEORGIA

 

Fife & My Ancestor Greenville Pullen (1788-1860)

The fife is a symbol of one of the musical instruments played in the Revolutionary War. It was also played in the War of 1812. In the War of 1812 my g-g-g- grandfather Greenville Pullen (1788-1860) was a military musician who tooted a fife. Here is what I have on him and his fife: He was in the War of 1812. Enlisted in Milledgeville, Ga., in 1814 for a term of eighteen months. He was discharged at Fort Jack, near Savannah, Ga. He enlisted as a private and later was appointed musician, a fifer for the company. Records show he was discharged after both arms were broken in an accident while at work on barracks. HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!

The Theory of Relativity Demonstrated

 

Today, watching The Indianapolis 500 brought memories of going to the Paulding County Drag Strip. Just west of here in Dallas, Georgia.

It was not an illegal on-public streets drag race place.  It was a officially sanctioned paved drag race strip within view of a drive in theater.  They had seating, concessions, and an admission ticket  booth.

Because it had an admission ticket booth is the reason we found an old deserted  dirt road off in the woods between the drive-in theater and the drag stip.  Slipping in through the woods was free.

It was always fee and interesting.  We knew some of the divers, or at least the ones that unofficially dragged after the race officially closed for the evening, there was dragsters wannabees taking challengers.

Back to the dirt road between the drive-in theater  and the drag strip.  My since we were babies friend Sam Carsley was going to Georgia Tech.  He bought a white/green two-two toned 55 Chevrolet convertible  from Anderson Motors.  It was clean and not a dent or scratch on it.  He came by to show it to me and we went on a test ride. 

While cruising with no destination and drinking  beer I told him my new discovery, the dirt road in Paulding County.   We rode out to the old deserted dirt road to show him.  Being a Tech student he told about Einstein’s Theory of Relativity he was learning. 

He told me a simple way to put it, if you are standing in the back of a bus and the bus suddenly stops your inertial would thrust you forward to the front.  The bus motion stopped but you motion forward continued as usual.

He said if we suddenly threw our cans of beer up in the air and stop suddenly the cans of beer would land in front of us.

Remember, we were in a convertible. He said lets try it.  He stopped suddenly and the two cans of beer both landed on the hood.  WHOMP!  WHOMP!

 

The like  new 55 Chevvy was no longer dintless.   

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! GENERAL GEORGE WASHINGTON , EC War Comics, art John Severin Will Elder

Tree Tricks

For the past several days we watched the tree man swinging high up in the trees, trimming limbs and all was interesting to watch and how he mounted himself so to be fall proof in each new location he swung to. It reminded me of many years ago: We lived on Manget Street in Marietta, across from Larry Bell Park, the unused (back then) part. Almost directly across from us was a ravine . It was a long deep ditch lined with trees always to Manget Creek. On the other side of the creek is the ball fields. I told the tree man of my bout with climbing trees when I was about 10 or 11 years old: Alone in the ravine one day I climbed a small tree. It was slim, but very high. I climbed near the top. Being so high up the weight of me made the top of the tree to sway. In fact in swayed so far over I could grab hold of a nearby twin tree, which I did, and climbed down from the 2nd tree. I thought that was so unique I did it a few more times. Then I wanted to show off a bit, so I went around the corner on Glover Street and got my friends Gene and Tony to come with me to the ravine, I wanted “to show them something.” With an audience of 2 I again climbed the small skinny tree. Up top I got the top swaying and before I could reach for its twin, the top snapped off. I fell, and it knocked me out. Gene and Tony thought I was playing a joke on them, that I was conscious. They told me if I didn’t get up they were going o to get Tony’s wagon and carry me down to Tony’s house and take my clothes off in front of his sisters Peggy and Lula. I did not sit up. I continued to lie there. They did what they threatened to do: Strip me butt naked in front of Tony’s sisters. Then they knew I was out. They thought I was dead. They put me back in the wagon and carried me to my house. Nobody was home, so they carried me inside and put me in my bed. Several years ago Tony’s mother died. I went to the funeral home during visitation hours. Tony’s two sisters Peggy and Lula, and I were the only people there. As we sat around I and talked about old times and the changes in the old neighborhood I silently wondered to myself if the two sisters was thinking about seeing me naked. The tree man asked when they carried me home did they put my clothes back on. I don’t know.

Another Chapter in the Hunter Saga

This morning I had plans, like most mornings, to go to the Sweat Mountain Dog Park. However, someone had conflicting plans: The drive into the park was blocked off for maintenance. Then I went to the Woof Park Dog Park in Woodstock. After Willow had her dog interaction/mingle time we headed back home. Every time we go there we pass American Tool in an old house on Main Street. My great grandparents William A. and Emaline Ray Hunter lived in that house. I heard they built it. Next to the house is Ingram Drive. Coincidentally William and Emaline's grandson-in-law was Vernon Tip Ingram. I bet they lived on Ingram Drive. Today, I investigated. I pulled into Ingram Drive and drove beside the HunterHouse/American Tool Rental. Ingram Drive went into a shady area. I followed the road. There were about four houses which have seen their better days. They all are among big old tall trees, the whole neighborhood was shady. At the dead-end I turned around. The driveway I used to turn around in stood a man watching me intently. He was gray headed and smoking a cigarillo. I thought, "Heck! Why not?" I got out of the truck and told the man that my great grandparents lived in what now is American Tool Rental and their son-in-law was an Ingram (later I realized it was their grand-son-in-law). I told him a condensed history of how William found his way to Woodstock, and the name change, bla bla bla. He listened with interest. taking a puff of his cigarillo from time to time. He pointed at the large house behind him. He said they used to be nursing home taking care of the elderly, and a 100 year old woman was a resident there that used to live in that Hunter/American Tool Rental house. I said it had to be Lois Hunter Carroway. She lived to be 103. Her sister Jacie Hunter was the one who married Tip Ingram. He said, "That's right! We called her Miss Lois!" Now, we know another chapter of the Hunter Saga.

Flyovers

SPEAKING OF "FLY OVERS": In the Navy I was in HU-4 (Helicopter Utility Squadron 4). The squadron had about 300 men. It supplied air service to non-aviation ships. The pilots of the squadron, when not detailed to a cruise had to practice their flying skills almost daily. I think each had to log in something like 50 hours flight of flight training a month. HU-4 was at NAS Lakehurst, NJ. Lakehurst was about 14 miles from the Atlantic and I think about 40 miles from Atlantic City. Also, Cape May was close enough. Cape May had then a nudist colony, I do not know if it is still there or not. Our division officer told us he often flew over the nudist colony on his logging.... "Fly Overs". The picture is me in one of he Squadron's Bell Helicopters pretending I'm having a "fly Over'.

Poo Poo Hitting the Fan

PooPoo Hit The Fan. This week we are having tree work done. The tree-boss said it will take at least 4 or 5 days. They started Monday. He said they don’t work in the or deal with wet trees, too slippery. Tuesday it rained, which pushed them back a day. Monday we texted our grass cutting company and told the boss don’t come this week. We said we will let him know when the tree cutting and trimming. The boss texted back and said we are on the schedule for Thursday. We wrote back and again told him the tree men would be here Thursday, again telling him we would notify him. The is morning (Thursday) the yard men came. The trailer that hauled the riding lawnmower and other equipment blocked the driveway. The tree men leaded the driveway to be cleared to back their limbs grinder . I told one of the grass workers we told them their boss not until the tree men are finished. Lack of communication. I told hm he would have to move the trailer off the driveway just as the tree crew arrived with their tree grinder. They also brought a truck. It is also the day the disposal company picks up our garbage an recycles. I moved both of our vehicles over to my neighbor’s driveway. With trucks parked in the street, I think the disposal company will have a challenge picking up the garbage and recyclables with that new robot arm that picks up the cans and dump them in their trucks. I am thinking of writing a folk song that will be titled “The Day the Shit Hit the Fan on Corene Drive.”

Himself?

From 1965 to 1968 I worked for Sinclair Refining Company, the office staff of the warehouse. This morning I thought of Jenny, the secretary. She was a hoot, and in a way my hero. I remember one time a racing car crew head mechanic called wanting a certain product that he believed they needed for the racing car they were fixing up. We did not have it and told him it would take weeks to receive it. He evidently told his boss, the car racer and he called us back and Jenny answered the phone and he told her his famous name and added “Himself”. Jenny broke out laughing and said something like, “What can I do for you Mr. Himself?” I forgot if Jenny worked wonders and got the product to him in record time or not.

Tina Turner Died Today.

Tina Turner died today at her home in Switzerland. I saw her twice, both in Atlanta. at the Royal Peacock and the Atlanta Jazz Festival. Below is my blog about me gawking at her at The Royal Peacock. I didn't get to gawk much at her perfermance at the Atlanta Jazz Festifval because when she ran up on stage I jumped up to photograph her, forgetting I had a cup of beer in my lap which was tossed down the back of the lady behind me, so we had to take care of that instead. In July of 1965*, my friends Monty and Johnny, and I went to Atlanta to the Royal Peacock Nightclub. There was a musical group there Monty was worked up about and wanted to see. The name of the group was a husband and wife was “Ike and Tina Turner”. “Oh yeah!” I heard of them before. They had a song on the top 40 radio music. The Royal Peacock was a predominantly black nightclub. That night, we were the only white people there. They did not sell alcoholic drinks. They sold set-ups, and ice. Ike and Tina Turner put on one of the most rocking fast paced rock and roll live shows I have ever seen. Tina and her three female back-up singers, “The Iketts” put on a very good show – all four women were darn right sexy in their sensual movements with the music and all. And I’m sure to the opposite sex, Ike was also very sexy. He strummed an electric guitar and made the guitar make noises I didn’t know a guitar could make. I remember, what seemed to be trademark that night, was flicking out his long tongue with the whams of the guitar strings. It could almost be rated obscene by the standards of the times then. Ike died today at age 76. From celebrity gossip through the years I understand that Ike and Tina divorced and Ike had a drug problem. I don’t know about that, but he sure could play an electric guitar. Big Wheel Keep On Rolling….rolling,… rolling….rol… * I remember in was July 1965 because it was within two weeks after I got out of the Navy from serving my active duty obligation.

Being it is near Memorial Day, here is our 3rd great grandfather Jesse E. Bookout (1810-1887), who fought in the Indians Wars. He was born in Lincoln County, NC, lived briefly in Powder Springs, Cobb County, Ga and finishing up his life in Murray County, Georgia. In Murray he worked for Chief Vann for a short time until it caused a ruckus. It was unlawful at that time for a white man to work for an Indian. He married Patricia Martha Rollins in Murray County 17 Oct 1836, They are buried in Sumac Presbyterian Cemetery, Crandall Community, Murray County, Ga. He was a private in the Bishop Company Militia, Indian Wars.

National Museum Day

oday, May the 18th, is National Museum Day. It brings up the memory of all the museums I have been too. Well, not that many, I could probably count them all with my fingers and not even take off my shoes. No, maybe not. I think I need to take off both shoes. There are history museums too. I think every time I go to a museum I ask a question to a docent to impress them, to show I know something about the subject. And I think the docents to themselves say, “Yes there is a such thing as a stupid question.” Below is a picture I took in the High Museum in Atlanta. It proves paintings don’t put themselves on the walls you know.

Alice Petty Murray & husband Steve Pritchett & family

My g-g- grandfather Elijah Petty's daughter Nancy Petty Murray's daugther Alice Murray and her husband Steve Pritchett, which my FB friend Deborah Pritchett is related to also. This picture was probably taken in Murray County, Georgia.

Captive Audience of One

Advice Department: Think twice before you decide to become a barber, beautician, or a podiatrist. You are a captive audience of one, it comes with the job. You are expected to listen to and make enthused comments for whatever compulsive your customer/patient has on his/her mind. I went to a podiatrist yesterday. She held her own when I chose to talk about birds and their habits and tweets. She has a bird house with food in it that has some interesting feather visitors. She was lucky I didn’t choose to talk about another subject I have been thinking a lot about: Are octopuses/octopi descendants of aliens whose spaceship crashed into the ocean millions of years ago?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ADAM!

The Jones Sisters

The Jones Sisters. (1) Anna's grandmother, Myrtle Irene Jones Foster (1895-1991). (2) Edith Gertrude Jones Wood (1898-1986). (3) Vernice Vera Jones Sudan-Wood-Brown (1906-1982)

The Lost Colony

Posted on Facebook 10 years ago:

More mileage of my photos. A few years ago we went to North Carolina, among things we were looking for was Roanoke, the Lost Colony. Roanoke was settled in 1587 by 115 English settlers. A few months later some returned to England for supplies. When they got to England the mother country was at war and needed every ship it could get. Which delayed them returning to Roanoke for a few years. When they finally returned there were no colonists. To put it plainly, who knows what happen to them, there are only theories. But, we found the Roanoke Colony, with the help of maps and signs, in Dare County, just like the map says - Who said it is "lost"?

Mattress Tester Occupation and Li'l Abner

This morning on CBS SUNDAY MORNING NEWS, among their many visual well researched articles was one about a mattress tester. For those who know all about vintage comic strips know that LI’L ABNER was a part time mattress tester. Why wasn’t he mentioned?

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! HELP Magazine Vol 2, #8, Feb 1964. MUTT & JEFF

BY Bud Fisher

To Be Trivia or Not Be Trivia

We picked up our lunches at a BBQ restaurant the other day. Near the window that orders are placed was a sign saying every Thursday night was Trivia Night! Below the large letters were smaller letters giving details which I did not read. I suppose it gave the rules, costs (if any), prizes to be awarded and so on. I briefly considered it. JEOPARDY! is a weekday TV show full of trivia. We do not miss a show. I have a couple of trivia on-line sites I visit regularly, and a couple of trivia card games I play, like playing Solitary. I am not perfect playing trivia, but I am not that bad either. However, I am not the competitive type, so I nixed the idea of playing in a trivia match. With that solved, as a joke, poking fun of myself I imagined what if I signed up and my ego took it seriously and on Trivia Night I come wearing silk cape, a king crown, and a huge belt buckle like champion wrestlers wear? That would be intimidating!

Cartoonist Skip Williamson at Dragoncon in Atlanta

Skip’s picture at Atlanta’s DragonCon in the late 1990s that I just came across. Skip Williamson (1944-2017). Skip was an underground cartoonist. In the mid 1990s I heard he and his family (Harriet and their twin daughters) moved to Marietta. I knew of Skip’s art in various cartoon work in underground comix and HELP magazine. He bought a house from my one-time postal Supervisor Stan. Stan did bodywork part time and rigged up his garage with ideal lighting for painting cars, which also was ideal lighting for drawing underground comix. For the heck of it, what do I have to lose? I called Skip and welcomed him to Marietta and we invited me over for a beer. That beer grew intro many more with many more visits. We had the same MAD heroes and he did a lot of cartoons for Harvey Kurtzman’s HELP Magazine, an example here. Looking up a his living dates I read he was called a “rambunctious cartoonist”. He was. He was also a rambunctious friend. His last art work that I know of was painting on nude women at a club of Ponce de Leon in Atlanta. They moved again and we lost touch. I hated to read that he died.

Billy Joe Royal and Warning at Acworth Beach

I came across this poster on Facebook getting word out that the late Billy Joe Royal would be at Acworth Beach as a regular entertainer on weekends. It reminded me of two or so years before that when one night Billy Joe, me, and a couple others were across the lake at a street that stopped at the lake. We were drinking vodka and some kind of mix, I forgot what. We decided to drive around to the beach and visit the beach hangout. We had to park across the street on a vacant plot of land with a bank at one end. We were in the car mixing more drinks when I saw a flashlight in the dark float in a fast motion manner down the bank.. when it got closer we saw an elderly cop was holding the flashlight. We probably looked like deer caught in headlights. Of course we were under age. He said he was arresting us. He asked for our names,, which he duly noted until he got to me. When I told him my name he asked was I related to Chief Ed Hunter. Yes, he is. My father I said. He let us go with a warning. Whew!

Hubert Prance 1917-1930

This is Hubert Prance (1917-1930). He lived only 13 years. He was a younger brother to Anna's father Paul Prance (1910-2000). Hubert is buried at Noonday Baptist Church Cemetery, north of Marietta. It is the first time I have even seen anybody ride a rooster.

Stocks Market High Record Predictor

Posted on Facebook 9 years ago: A monkey named Raven ranked 22nd among investor analyst experts on picking stocks that would do well. She did better than about 6,000 experts. Her method: Throwing darts at a dartboard. -Uncle John's Page-a-Day calendar, Friday, May 16, 2014.

Price Depends on Demand

When I was a student at Kennesaw Junior College, I took an economics course. A little smiling fella with a doctor’s title and an accent taught. The only thing I learned because I think it was the only thing he taught. He repeated it over and over is that the price of goods or product depended on the demand and the availability. I have known that since about the 7th grade when I was a kid of the streets. Which reminds me of a price and demand adventure I had back then: In the 7th grade I discovered MAD Comicbooks and to say it changed my mind-set would be an understatement. And, being the compulsive person I was and am, I swooped up all the back issues of MAD Comic books. By reading every word of every issue I had I learned you could buy back issues of every issue for fifteen cents each. I was a boy with limited means, so I bought a few issues every other week. What I did not take into account was that other kids in my age bracket that loved MAD too. One acquaintance, that lived on Alexander Street one day visited me. He said he heard I had a MAD Comicbook collection and he would like to see them. He did not humbly ask to see them, he demanded to see them. This kid and I were not friends, I thought he was snobbish and considered himself better than us. He went through my MAD Comics and said he wanted my MAD issue #5. I said NO! He said to complete his collection he needed #5. He offered me different prices, up to $5 (this is where the price is determined by demand and availability comes in) I told him to send off for it, like I did. He said he wanted I now. Again, I said NO! It is interesting that this guy and I, completely different in personality, at the taste for certain type o comic books. He left mad, or should I say mad but not MAD? Shortly after that my old friend Jimmy Pat paid me a visit. He is a neighbor to the boy that wanted my MAD #5. Jimmy Pat wanted to go through my MAD comics, which I pulled them out and we both went through them and I talked about the artists and pointed out things I thought were worthy of pointing out. In a short time Jimmy Pat said he had to go and left. The next day I was going through my MADs again and saw that MAD #5 was gone. Jimmy Pat was known for his sticky fingers talent. I knew what happened. Jimmy Pat with his expertise swiping ability stole my MAD #5 out from under my watchful eyes and handed it over to the kid that that wanted so bad, for a price of course. Jimmy Pat denied it taking it and seemed hurt that I would consider him a thief. I knew him too well.

I'm In The Jailhouse Now

This was the Macon County jail in Franklin, North Carolina, at one time. My first thought was that my ancestor Jason Henderson Hunter, and his son William A. Trammell/Hunter had probably spent more than one night in this building but investigating more I read this jail was built in the early 1900s. Jason H. Hunter was the town constable and was locked up often for defying Judges orders pre 1850s and William and his uncle Van Trammell were locked up in about 1865/66 for murder, but they were not there long, they escaped.

HAPPY MOTHERS' DAY!

Janie with me, Frances, and Bonne, one at a time.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! MAD Comicboook #19, Mickey Rodent

Written by editor Harvey Kurtzman, art by Will Elder